


Portgas D. Ann

by Tifacat



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon-Typical Violence, Female Portgas D. Ace, Gen, Portgas D. Ace-centric, Portgas D. Ann - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tifacat/pseuds/Tifacat
Summary: Portgas D. Ann Is not an average girl. After all, not many average girl sail to the grand line and becomes pirate, a (former) captain even more, and a super-rookie with fire type logia devil fruit at that. This is some snap-shots on her life, in which our beloved fire user is a girl.Fem!AceSwitching between AU and canon as I please.Cross-posted at FFnUpdating from the beginnning now!
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Portgas D. Ace & Whitebeard Pirates
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	1. Of Innocence and naivety

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here's Tifa. This is the first story I have ever posted in ao3. Maybe there's many typos because I don't have beta reader. Please excuse that. Also this is cross-posted on FFn! I'm CatTifanyan there, but probably will change back to tifacat someday.  
> Anyway enjoy!

**Of Innocence and naivety**

Your name is Ann and you have no one.

Dadan and her bandits are loud and harsh. They know how to take care of each others but they don't know how to take care of a baby. An infant. A little growing girl. Of you.

So you can rely on them for food and shelter but otherwise neither of you get each other.

They drink sake and smoke cigarettes. Play cards and betting on things you can't understand. You don't get their humor, their laughter never infectious to you, nor are yours to them. Sharing spaces and coexisting with them doesn't mean companionship nor camaderrie.

At the age of four you run through the front door, no one stops you.

(Someone may had actually called after you, but you don't know for sure. You didn't look back, you never look back.)

So four years old and running around in the jungle you have known all your life, (The only thing that you have ever known all your life) you make do with whatever you found. Your company is the sun, the wind caress your cheeks, the river your playful mate. It's lonely, but you don't say that to anyone. You don't have anyone to say that to.

(The evening you came back, right before dinner, Dadan actually scolds you for running, ranting about little brat in a forest full of beasts, she hastily adds that you should have bring food home, at least, for all the troubles you have caused. And if you notice you were given a bigger portion of meat than usual, you don't mention it. No one mentioned it)

* * *

Your name is Ann and you had _no_ father.

This part of the city is sans guards but filled to the brim with unsavory kind of people. You have never seen any kid in these neighborhood. They said it is dangerous, unfit for precious little children with their innocence. You scoff, your steps fit right in with the dark alleys and even darker bars.

"If Gold Roger has a child-"

The same question, the same answer. It's a song and dance you have mastered. Anger is ever present and ever burning, it's warmth engulf you fully, just like fire with never ending supply of fuel. Fuel that is easy to get, and fuel is what you searched for.

There's the sneer, there's the laugh, there's the mockery and death threats.

You have never been to a dance party your whole life but someone told you there's steps in dancing. Different for every music, different for every occasion. For this one dance, you create your own.

One. Step to the left.

Two. Kick to the face.

Three. Punch to the gut.

Four. Glide and duck.

Back to one.

  
You emerge mad and victorious, with bruises as trophy and anger as the cheering crowd.

* * *

Your name is Ann and you _had_ a mother.

Sitting on the edge, facing the cliff. The sky still shy in showing her glittering night, barely after the sun went down. You have been sitting here alone since high noon. Garp was oddly quiet behind you, yet maybe that is to be expected as you had just asked wether or not it's a good thing that you were born.

(There's a nagging answer in the back of your head, saying the dreadful _no_ in an almost sing song voice. You ignored it, for now. )

His answer came in a vague statement, a beat of silence, and an unasked yet appreciated story about a woman you never got to know.

"Rouge was beautiful," Gramps would say, "Portgas D. Rouge was beautiful, thick headed, kind, lovely and scary, she takes no shit and she stood for herself against anyone who dares to oppose her."

You stilled. This is the first time you have ever heard of her description. Beautiful was stuffed into your head like the stuffing Dadan had Magra made for the turkey you caught last week. Rouge's last name, Portgas, no, Portgas D., found a place inside your mind beside the carefully guarded fact that she died in childbirth.

"She had strawberry blonde-ish pink hair,"

(Oh, great that means you inherited his hair, what a lovely _gift_ from the man who doomed your life from the start)

"She loved hibiscus flowers, there was big bushes of it near her house, she used to wear those flower on her hair everywhere," a small laugh, "I never figured how she got it stayed fresh in the middle of a damn childbirth. I asked and she just laughed annoyingly, that little shit."  
A small pause, "You knew her well, old man?" you asked.

"No, not really,"

Silence again. But this time it's not suffocating nor it is heavy. You tried to picture a woman with pink hair, flower in her hair, stubborn to a fault. Beautiful. Annoying laugh. Scary. Beautiful. Takes no shit. Strawberry blonde. Hibiscus flower. Beautiful. Kind. Lovely. Beautiful.

(There's not enough information for you to try and recreate her image that, maybe, somehow, you have in the deep recesses of your brain. Just because you have met her once. There's never enough information for you to recreate anything.)

A heavy palm rest on your head.

"You've got her freckles."

Warmth spread on your face. Not enough to chase the cold you feel inside, nor is it enough to trample those voices you've heard at the bar and their echo that you can still hear right now. But it is warm and warmth is a familiar thing. Garp's footstep fade, and you're left alone with your thoughts.

As the constellations brighten in the sky, you touch your own and feels the warmth on your cheek.

(... It is a _lovely_ gift.)

(Your name is Ann and you have a grandpa.)

* * *

  
Your name is Ann and you met someone.

Five years old with a weary soul, you search and ransack the trash heap they called grey terminal. Finding knickknacks and scraps between rubbish and rotten Food. You quickly learn about the hierarchy and competition in that junkyard.

(You also learned that, for all they talk about killing and survival of the fittest, those people do look after each others. You've seen them sharing foods they found and helping each other 'fixing' rubbish into a somewhat functional tool. You don't think about it. Well, not much.)

You are a fast learner, and life is a pretty simple equation; pickpocket for cash plus hunt for foods equal a pretty decent day where you got to eat all you want and Dadan won't nag you all day.

One day, there's a boy your age in that equation.

He has blonde hair and annoying voice.

He lost a tooth yet smiles without inhibition.

He wears top hat and clothes like you've never seen before but he lives in a trash heap you know like the back of your hand.

( Someone's watching you, "The hell are you looking at?"

"Your sorry excuse for muscles," The unwanted spectators said.

You bristles at the taunt. "COME HERE YOU!"

"What you gonna beat me with those noodles you call limbs?"

And there was a chase and a hefty amount of kicks involved before the evening ends.)

He's a little shit.

First time you meet him, you beat him in hand to hand combat.

("And that's what you get for insulting me you ass. I think your brain must have understand that now," You said with a sneer, this boy better know who's in charge here.

"...I think your face is repugnant," he said, with a voice certainly meant for you to hear.

You don't know what that means.

You kick him again.)

The fifth time you meet him, he beat you at pickpocketing someone.

("That was MY target!" You bellowed to his face, five weeks after you first met him and hours of asking around what repugnant means.

It's a fancy word for ugly.

So, this guy is a _fancy little shit_.

"Oh boohoo, the little imp can't pickpocket a wandering noble because of incompetence! How pitiful!" The little shit mocks, face even uglier than usual.

"Your ass is pitiful!"

"That's not even a decent comeback!")

The tenth time you meet each other, the both of you beat the ever living shit of an alligator.

(You eyed the carcass of the biggest alligator you have ever beaten, it certainly holds more meat than two regular alligator. You were the one to land the killing blow, but the weirdly dressed boy was the one who made said blow possible. For the first time in your life you are contemplating wether or not you should have all the meat of your kills.

"Let's split it."

He looks bewildered,

"Sure.")

You don't really like to be tied to someone but two are better than one in the case of getting money and beating larger than bridges crocodiles, alligators, and boars. So now you have a partner.

(It's the fifteenth time you meet each other. Maybe you should stop counting, last night you decided you'll agree for his proposal for partnership anyways, so you'll meet each other more often.

"I agree," You said unprompted.

A smile. An extended hand.

"Sabo,"

You grabbed his hand with more force than necessary.

"Ann,"

There's a comical widening of eyes, "YOU'RE A GIRL?!"

You rolled your eyes.)

You spar with him, you hunt with him, you explore with him.

You both share funds and dreams.

He teases you and you kick him.

But his laughter is infectious, and turns out yours too to him.

(Your name is Ann and you have _(don't hope too high but_ ) maybe a friend?)

* * *

Your name is Ann and you meet someone. Again.

This one is even more annoying than Sabo.

(God, it has been five years. How you actually has found someone to befriend is still baffling. But you both are improving fast with all the sparring you've done together. It's... Nice.)

He's loud. He's small. He's pathetic.

(You spat on his face. He screamed and said that that wasn't _nice_ of you. That you should _apologize_. As if you should be nice to him. As if you _wanted_ to be nice to him.)

He's crying all the time. He's weak. He's dumb.

(And he doesn't understand the word 'no'. He doesn't understand an explicit desire of 'leave me the fuck alone'. Hell, he doesn't understand an actual attempt of murder.

And when you and the only person you might call friend is just frantically trying to find a new hiding place for your treasure, the both of you realize an important fact; no one is coming.

The little brat did not spill your secret.

He cries and says things like being alone is worse than being hurt, and seeing his bandaged body you don't really doubt his statement.

He actually went trough all those beating because the other option will makes him traitor to you and you will never be his friend.

There's a nagging on the back of your head saying you know that's true, before you met Sabo, there was a year of dark loneliness, where the only decent human interaction you've got is those scumbag at the seedy bars, saying how they would they kill Gold Roger kid, given the chance. A year where Garp got so tied up with his job that the only time he visit was the time you asked him if it's a good thing that you were born. A year where you would prefer the trash heap than Dadan's Hut because you're too angry to come back after beating up people at the bar.

You frown and tell said nagging Voice to shut the hell up. You've got bigger problem right now. Namely this rollercoaster of a feeling in your chest when he said he wants you to _live.)_

His name is Luffy.

His name is Luffy and he's nothing but trouble.

His name is Luffy and his smile is even wider than Sabo's. His chatter more annoying. His behavior more reckless. His clothes has ridiculous pictures and puns. His cheeks usually damp from crying. But his laughter is just as infectious as your only friend's.

And there's five minutes of dawning realization that you would go to war if it means protecting their laughter.

(It scares you.)

Weeks later, there's a cup of stolen sake in front of you, two boys at your side. You look at them with a bubbling feeling in your chest, one you could never get enough of. A toast was made. A bond was made.

("Shishishi, I have brothers now!"

A sigh from the blonde, "A brother and a sister, Luffy"

There's a comical widening of eyes, and you rolled your eyes.

Not this again.

A gasp of surprise.

"SABO IS A GIRL?"

"Wha- NO! ANN IS!"

Oh no it's worse.)

Your name is Ann and you have never laughed as hard as the day you acquired two brothers.

The three of you wakes up to Dadan's scream, asking who the heck is the third brat. There was an explanation and more screaming and the day passed in a blur. Soon you've got meal spread in front of you, Makino and the old man from foosha in the corner. You dig into your food, bragging how you will be pirates sooner than your brothers because you're the oldest.

Suddenly Dadan and her bandit splutters and you got a sense of foreboding.

Uh oh.

"You brat are still going on about that, Huh?"

Yeah no. Run.

A dozen fists of love, a revelation about the third brat and being sworn siblings, unethical deforestation, and lots of headache later, the three of you track backs to Dadan's Hut. Limping and supporting each others, muttering darkly over marines and their ridiculousness.

The three of you passed Dogra, mumbling about sake prices at the front door. He sees the state you three are in and gestures for you to enter through the back door. When you shoot him the universal look of questioning he answer with one but sufficient word; "Garp-san".

Sabo gave him a grin, luffy mutters thanks, you nod and that's enough.

Reaching the backdoor you halt, because backdoor is always locked. You swore internally. Dammit how could you forgot. Ugh. If Dogra said to use the backdoor he should've at least give the damn key-

The door opens without a prompt. Magra is holding the handle. He looks at you with the usual expression of _Garp beat your ass didn't he?_ And step aside to let you in.

You're about to ask about some goddamn bandages or band aids or whatever kind of first aid kits there is, when Magra gestures to the kitchen counter and leaves.

There's a bunch of bandages and a box of first aid kit. A paper with ' _Try not to die_ ' scribbled on it in a handwriting you know belongs to Dadan.

Sabo reached for the bandages and start to treat luffy's arm.

Luffy begin to squirm and complain.

You still marvel at the note and how you realized all these years you have never really been alone.

(Your name is Ann and you have a... Dadan. And her bandits. Yes that's a pretty good description of Dadan. And her bandits.)

And that night, when the three of you are sleepy but found a new resolve to live on your own somewhere Garp can't find you again _ever_. You gaze at the glittery constellations outside from the window, two warm bodies beside you. You wonder if this is what people call a perfect day. A perfect life?

Sure Garp is annoying as ever. Sure there are trees and animal in the forest that beg to differ. And sure, maybe your body is just sore all over. But.

But.

This warm bubbly feeling in your chest is stronger than ever.

Your name is Ann, you have never lived a life in a city. You have never met any living relatives. You have never lived an easy life. You have never actually read a good book. You have never actually seen your mother's face.

But you have two brothers now, a grandpa, a Dadan, and Dadan's bandit. You have a dream. You have met Makino and Woop slap. Your belly is full. Your heart even more so.

Your name is Ann and for the first time you want to say you have a perfect live.

(It is. Well, what could go wrong, really?)


	2. Of Family Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann is getting her Tattoo!

**Portgas D. Ann**

“Hello everyone! My name is Portgas D. Ann. I’m sorry for all trouble I caused. I am looking forward to meet all of you!”

“Gurararara. Welcome to our family, my daughter!”

“CHEERS FOR OUR NEW SISTER!”

“KANPAI!”

.....

**Of Family Mark**

Portgas D. Ann by no means is an average girl. After all, not many average girl set sail to the Grand Line and becomes pirate, a (Former) captain even more, and super rookie with fire-type Logia devil fruit user at that. And even if there are some average girl who set sail and becomes a captain for her own crew and have some sort of devil fruit strength, there is certainly no girl out there who had challenged Whitebeard; the strongest man alive, attempting assassinations on the living legend’s own ship, and keep the attempt persistent for 100 days.

And there is obviously no one, girls or boys, sane or insane (Even insane or stupid enough to attempt an assassination on Whitebeard), who after those 100 days, happily (Even if after some hard thinking, speculating, and worrying) joined the crew and becomes one of their siblings.

So yes; Portgas D. Ann is not an average girl.

After a party night to celebrate her answer to their captain’s offer for become his daughter, Ann is grinning ear to ear, face-splitting-brighter-than-the-sun grin her former crew is familiar with, and her new sibling is shocked with; when she first arrives, she always angry and send them those ‘talk-to-me-and-you’ll-get-burned’ glares. And it will be lying if these grins didn’t make her prettier.

“Hey, Ann!”

An arm sling to her shoulder, the fourth division commander, Thatch, is also grinning ear to ear.

“Glad to see this decision is finally out of that thick skull of yours! So where will you put your mark?”

Feeling somewhat irritated with the man’s insult of her intelligence, (That was just stating the truth really, who the heck stupid enough to challenge Whitebeard anyway? Oh, right. Ann.) Ann shoves the man away from her, “What mark?” she asked.

“The Whitebeard pirate’s mark of course, yoi.” The reply came from the first division commander, Marco ‘The Phoenix’ who appeared from nowhere.

“Oh, come think of it you guys have those huh?”

“Yep, it’s an official sign that you’re part of family.” The head chef butted in, “It should be in place where the whole world can see it so normally it’s on our hands, legs, or clothes and accessories. So where will you put your mark Ann?”

The teenage pirate seems in deep thought, “Hmm... it will be pain in the ass to make my entire shirt have the mark...”

Marco lifted one of his eyebrows. “Your shirt, yoi?”

“Yes, you said it should be able to be seen by the world isn’t it? It will be easier to be seen if I put it on my face, but I don’t want to be tattooed on face, the hat is out of question, so the other ‘easy-to-be-seen’ position is that it covers my middle-body.”

Thatch and Marco smiled, maybe their littlest (She is the youngest by age, honestly! She’s only what? 18?) Sister didn’t realize what she had said, but that one sentence told both men that she is happy to become one of their siblings and proud to let the world sees that she is.

“Yeah, Izo would be PMS-ing if you put him to draw the mark in every single shirt you have.”

“What you mean by that Thatch?”

Marco is the one who answer her, “Izo is the one who gives the new member their mark, whether it is a tattoo or some pic in their clothes. But I get my mark before he joins yoi.”

“Is that so?”

Some minutes passed in silence as the freckled pirate trying to figure out where to put the so called ‘family mark’ while her new older brothers watching her in silence (They can’t stop smiling tough). She eyed Marco’s mark that is on his chest, and then back in her thought.

Suddenly a fist meet with a palm, “I KNOW!” she yelled.

“So, where?” Thatch pressed.

Ann is grinning, “I want it to be tattooed on my back!”

...A silence...

“Ann.” Thatch said in surprisingly stern voice, “You do realize that with the mark tattooed to your back, it will be covered by your shirt?”

The young D. carrier just lifted her eyebrow, “I just don’t have to wear a shirt then.”

“Ann. If you don’t wear any shirt, your back will be exposed, yoi.” Marco piped expression unreadable.

“So what? Isn’t that the whole point of having mark on your back and not wearing a shirt?” the female pirate said.

“Well it is but—”

“AH, IZO! I WANT TO GET MY MARK!”

The two commanders just stare while sweat-dropping. _‘...That wasn’t the problem Ann.’_

Two weeks later Ann is showing off her new tattoo, clad in her usual black-cargo pants but without a shirt; in replacement she wear an orange bikini top that had nothing but strings to be attached on her body so the mark is not covered. So practically, aside from the tattoo, she is showing off her fucking hot body curve too.

“Why you complied with her stupid idea, yoi?”

“You asked as if I had any choice, Marco. She keeps pestering me when I refuse for one week straight, and she reject all of my suggestion of where she should put her mark. And remember that she was the one that had attempted to kills our father for 100 days straight; she’s hot-headed, insanely stupid, stupidly insane, annoyingly persistent, and stubborn as hell.”

“Well... shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo how was it guys? It was written a long time ago so excuse my... Uh story


	3. Of first battle and overprotective brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When life gives you catcall... (warning: lots of catcalling and general being woman in general)

**Of First Battle and Overprotective brothers**

It was Ann’s first battle as a Whitebeard pirate.

There were some pirate scums that attack one of the islands under Whitebeard’s protection, so naturally they send some team to kick those bastards off their precious island. In this situation there are three commanders that were sent; Marco, Thatch and Izo, under them are their own selected division’s member. And because it’s the first time that a ruckus happen after Ann had joined, they used it as an introduction event for the freckled pirate to the whole world to see (Or at least, the whole island,) that she is now one of the crew. Part of the family.

Ann had been excited, wearing that wicked grin on her face and her confident, lay-back pose, her form promises fun and victory to the Whitebeard pirate’s team. Of course, she only wear those damned bikini top and her cargo pants, combined with her beautiful (Don’t tell her this fact, she had big ego as it is.) face and her fire-natured devil power it makes some unfortunate male pirates that they were facing throws some very uncreative pick-up lines to her.

“Hey, you’re on fire!”

Whistle, “That was hot as hell.”

“Hey babe, you’re hot!”

“You make me sweaty~”

“Got a light?”

“Light my fire-“

BUAGH!

Before the phrase can be completed, Marco’s feet landed on his face, sending the man back for a good two meters before crashing into some random tree.

“Shut your damn trap, yoi.”

Although it irritate her brothers to no end, Fire Fist Portgas D. Ann just simply ignore the jeers and tease that those low-live pirates sends to her, continuing to kick some pirates left and right with that grin firm on her face, almost as if she has been oblivious to all of it. Her action just raises the number of harassments that were directed to her, and in return irritate her brother more. The result; more victim falls from the pirate scums side.

But those weaklings were stubborn and their number is bigger than the Whitebeard’s team, not that they couldn’t handle some idiot who thought they can attack their island and get away with it, it just starting to get on their nerves. Simply that it was annoying.

Granted, maybe they are being overprotective of her, but it can’t be helped! She is their youngest sibling! And a youngest sister at that! (No offense for all females out there, we know you are strong. Hell, Ann’s bounty is higher than many people on their crew and allies!) It is purely just some short of big-brother-syndrome, the main symptom is; ‘You-Don’t-Flirt-With-My (Our)-Baby-Sister-EVER’. And it’s Ann; she got the whole crew wrapped under her fingers.

And it was one of those times when you’re so annoyed by your enemies and want to end the fight as fast as you could and kick your enemy’s butt multiple times, it was one of those times that emotions make your movement become more brash and reckless. The commanders know better than to involve any feelings in battle for it clouded their decision and movement, but their underlings are not that wise. It was one of Izo’s men; he was too preoccupied and distracted kicking ass that he didn’t realize someone attempts to attack him from the back with a knife.

That was the biggest insult as a Whitebeard pirate. Being attacked from back.

And when the three commanders see it, they also realize that they were too far. It was too late.

But they tried anyway, no brother of theirs going to get scar at their back or even killed because of it. Not in their watch. But before they can react more than emitting an angry glare, the man was sent flying by a column of fire (An overkill, yes). Looks like Ann beat them to it.

And beat them to it she did. Standing before the brother she just saved, she looked so pissed. Her face is promising hell, while both her hands is on the hell’s fire itself.

“You don’t attack a man from the back mister,” her venomous words echoing through battlefield, “Especially not our man, and a swordsman at that,” and it was said with the smile that will makes the devil himself blush, “You guys called these,” she gestured her fire, “Hot as hell?” the smile get more dark.

“I’ll show you the real meaning of that word.”

Then, right before their eyes, she engaged all the pirate scums in the battle with herself. Kicking, punching and throwing fire here and there. Her fire burn any human that try to attack her, not only that but also her surrounding area is now on fire. Looks like this is what the marine had saw when they said she had burnt down a city into hell. Some of them are stupid enough to shoot the logia user with some average bullet, and because the bullets just pass through her it instead took their own men down. Two men with some sort of giant hammer is attacking her front, but she seemed to paid them no mind as she just firing her fire ‘bullets’ (“HIGAN!”) to them effortlessly while a somewhat half-giant man try to punch her from the back (Apparently stupid enough to not learnt his comrade’s experience.) only to have his fist gone through her body-fire, and he was met with the infamous move of ‘Fire fist’ Portgas D. Anne; “HIKEN!” The move not only taken the man burnt and unconscious but also more than twenty men behind him.

That attack is probably the one turn point in which their opponents realize they cannot win against her; let alone the whole team. So they’re starting to retreat towards their ship, still throwing some stray bullets here and there that was easily dodged by the Whitebeard pirates, but Ann’s figure is still filled with rage as she jump high in the air, maneuvering in the air with the help of her fire and land in front of their now terrified opponents, then shout:

“HOTARUMI!” some little shining green dots that looked like firefly spread all over their opponents’ side, “HIDARUMA!” and suddenly, the dots explode wide and contagious, the explosion caught all the retreating men on fire and in enough force to make them unconscious (Dead? No, but...). Ann just stands there, unscratched and still looked pissed but the looks calmed a little than before, and more satisfied. Probably because their opponents had been barbequed by her fire.

Thatch whistled low enough that only the three commanders could hear, “She sure is kick ass.”

“Damn straight. But I wonder if she snaps because of the murder attempt from behind,” Izo spat the last four words distastefully, “Or if she was annoyed by the tease and jeers?”

“I don’t know about that, but she looked oblivious to it, yoi.”


	4. Of (still) Overprotective Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone decided it is in their best interest to try flirting with Ann in a bar....

**Of (still) Overprotective Brothers**

It was a mere six hours after their battle in which Ann’s first battle as Whitebeard pirate and her devil fruit ability roasted all of their opponents alive. The civilians on the island had offered them to stay the night, but considering the current and winds, the team (who had been assigned with some gunpowder supplying task along the way) decided to set sail as soon as possible and search for gunpowder in nearby island for the island that they had just defended had no gunpowder supply because the islanders don’t use any guns in fight. The crew, being a pirates they are, had begged to the three commanders (Mainly just a certain blonde with an ability to turns into a ‘flaming-blue-chicken’ as Ann dubbed it,) to ‘visit’ some random bar and get drunk for a night to celebrate their victory (Which is a total bull; they just want to throw a party and get drunk), so here the three commanders are, occupying some corner in a random bar, sake and snack in table but trying to not get drunk to keeping a watch on their drunken-sailor brothers. 

It is a (somewhat) calm and happy moment before a question broke their content atmosphere.

“You see that?” Izo asked while his gaze following something behind them. His face is calm but his is hands twitching towards his pistols, he’s emitting some sort of dark aura behind him and Thatch could swear he saw some murderous glint in his eyes.

“See what -...” Marco’s words trailing off when he followed his friend’s gaze.

“What? What was-?”

When Thatch catch what the other commanders were looking at, he froze, expression suddenly turning dark and without hesitating he unsheathed his sword then take a step towards their unsuspecting newest sister; Ann.

But before he can walk more than two steps, a hand stopped him.

“No.” Izo said, eyes dark.

“But- don’t you see!? She-! That-!”

A well-shaped eyebrow lifted, “Have a little faith in her would you?”

Ah, I see. You are confused right? Well, let’s see what happened a few minutes earlier from our favorite freckled pirate side, shall we?

...A few minutes earlier...

“Hey hottie.”

Ann looked up from her ‘snack’ (That consisted of 10 man’s dinner portion, and she doesn’t drink. Not tonight anyway,) to the source of the sound; a middle aged man seating in front of her, his gaze is taking her front form from head to toe, and his face is quite red.

“...Can I help you sir?” she asked politely (Well, as polite as possible with her mouth stuffed with foods anyway, she’s pretty sure it more sounds like ‘Kwahn aih elp ou iyr?’).

The man chuckled, and Ann can smell strong whiskey from his breath, “Oh, yes. Of course you can.”

Ann just raised her eyebrow, what the heck is this man wants? Swallowing her foods, she waits for the man to continue...

The man still wears that somewhat creepy amused grin on his face, he gestured to Ann’s choice of clothing (or lack of thereof,) and says, “I see you’re not cold.”

Ann’s eyebrows knitted together, “No, I am not, in fact I’m quite warm. It is beca-” The man raise his hand, a signal for Ann to stop her rant, and her frown deepening, this man sure is rude.

He gives a chuckle again, “I can see that, I believe you are quite ‘hot’ even,”

...Now we back to the present where Thatch was stopped by Izo when he attempted to slice the unknown man at Ann’s table...

Ann is getting impatient, she maybe a pirate, but she’s not that rude to leaves the conversation and begin to dig her ‘snack’ again, (She’s not Luffy!) and Makino’s lessons had made sure of that. From the corner of her eyes she can see that Thatch and Izo are bickering about something, but she ignores it.

“Yes, that’s because of my ability-”

The man cut her again, “Your ability left no room to doubt, it worked well with me. In fact, it worked so well, I feel quite hot.”

Huh? “Uh... I don’t aware of that. I’m sorry, you can just move closer to the windows if the heat makes you uncomfortable.” Okay, she knows she tends to literally lit up and sends a heat wave to her surrounding while excited but she had it under control! She wouldn’t let her ability loose in civil place like this!

The man let a full blown laugh, “Yes! Yes, I feel very uncomfortable, in fact I just said that I feels quite heated right?” he turn his gaze to Ann, “So, do you think you can help me to be feels more comfortable?” he said while leaning closer to Ann’s face.

While Ann slowly backing her from to keep her personal space from the man, confused at how the heck she should help, she feels a hand sling to her shoulder.

“HEY ANN!” Thatch screamed in her ears.

What was that for? Did he think she’s deaf or something? “Uh, what the heck Thatch?!” she said annoyed.

“I see you got a company,” a voice beside her said, Ann turns her gaze from the head chef to her left side, “But I believe your dear brother wants your company as well Ann.” She was greeted by a certain cross-dresser’s (Creepy?) smile.

“Izo? What do you mean-?”

The 16 division commander points at Marco, “Go there, cheer our most stick-in-the-muds Brother up Ann.”

“But my food-”

“There’s many food at his table as well, and if that’s not enough you can always order again, bills on Marco tonight.” Thatch butted in.

Izo smiled warmly at her, “Go Ann, Thatch and I wants to have a nice chat with this gentleman.” He said with sickly sweet tone, while nodding at the man who had been turned visibly pale at the two commanders’ arrival.

Somewhat sensing danger in her ship-brothers’ eyes, Ann just nodded, “Okay...”

When Ann arrives at Marco’s table, she was greeted by the First Division commander’s amused face, then she ask what’s so funny and he just snorted while gesturing at the crowd that had gathered around Izo, Thatch, and the stranger, blocking their view completely. Founding no answer at the sight, she raised her eyebrow at Marco, at this the man laughed, then he sent a fond glance at their brothers and says;

“And they called me the mother-hen...”


End file.
